


If Nancy Survived?

by smudge95



Category: Oliver Twist - All Media Types, Oliver! - Bart
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-14 11:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11207376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudge95/pseuds/smudge95
Summary: What if Nancy's story ended differently?





	1. Chapter 1

She felt her eyes crease open before she screwed them shut again as a searing pain roared through her head. Bringing a shaking hand up to her temple, she felt around for any damage. Wincing, she opened her eyes and inspected her hand and observed the smears of dark blood with a grim fascination. She wiped her fingers without ceremony on the rug he’d draped over her and heaved herself into a sitting position. Feeling her head throb with the movement, she just sat for a few moments and tried to focus.

No, she wouldn’t let herself think about what had happened. She desperately urged all images of his contorted face and enraged eyes out of her head, sniffed and slowly edged herself onto her knees. Pushing the rug into a crumpled heap on the floorboards, she unfolded herself until she was standing as straight as was possible. Wiping a few fresh dribbles of blood from her cheek, she made her unsteady way over to the window. The curtains were still drawn. He’d drawn them. Taking a deep breath, she eased them apart, squinting as the morning sunlight flooded the room.

She turned to survey the evidence of the night before. A gas lamp lay smashed next to their bed. His voice echoed in her head and she clamped her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to quieten it.

There’s light enough for what I’ve got to do.

Shaking her head with a ferocity which made her wound sting even more, she kicked the gas lamp under the bed, scraping the remaining shards of glass with her bare foot so they fell through the cracks in the floorboard. She rolled her shoulders back and tilted her head to either side, feeling her weary bones creak. This burst of activity had made her a little woozy.

Doing her best to ignore the steady waves of dizziness churning her insides, she walked over to where a bucket of water sat against the wall. She knelt down in front of it and scooped some of the water up in her hands and washed her face. It stung as it splashed against her injuries, but was otherwise soothing. She cupped her hands again, retrieved more water and took a drink. However, this only made the churning in her stomach worse and with a groan, she leant over to the side of the bucket and vomited.

She retched and felt her eyes prickle. Leaning back on her heels, she wiped away her hot tears with the back of her bruised hands, stopping only when she heard a tapping at the door.

‘Nancy? You ready?’

Nancy couldn’t find her voice. She sniffed, blinked and glanced upwards at the ceiling before hauling herself to a standing position. She brushed herself down, then ran a hand through her tangled hair. Picking the bucket up, she sluiced a little water over the floor to clean up, taking a few deep breaths. The knocking came again, then the door creaked as it was pushed open.

‘Nance?’

In the doorway stood Bet. Nancy turned around to look at her with glistening eyes. The young girl cried out when she saw her state and ran into the room.

‘Oh my God! What happened?’

‘I – I… I don’t know,’ Nancy croaked, feeling the pressure in her throat build as a new onset of tears threatened. She placed the bucket back on the floor and sniffed again.

‘He did this? To you?’ Bet stood in front of her friend and looked darkly into her eyes.

All Nancy could do was nod. Then a strangled sob forced its way out of her throat and she collapsed into Bet’s open arms. The girl held her for a few moments, bewildered, then pulled away to look at her again. She wiped Nancy’s tears away with her thumb and nodded, her mouth in a determined line.

‘We need to get you out. Come on. Come with me.’

‘It’s a mess, Bet. I’ve made such a mess.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Nance. We need to get you away.’

Nancy pointed to her shawl, which lay draped over a chair from the night before. Bet nodded and grabbed it, wrapping it tightly around Nancy’s shoulders. She then noticed that the girl wasn’t wearing shoes, so grabbed her boots from the corner of the room and guided her feet into them, not bothering with the laces. She stood up and took Nancy’s hands firmly.

‘Right. Come on, quickly.’

Bet ushered Nancy out of the room before allowing herself to fully look at the scene. It was dreadful. She balked at the smears of blood on the floor and the torn curtains around the bed, quickly stepped out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Shaking her head, she took Nancy’s hand in hers and wrapped her free arm around her hunched shoulders, then led her out of the building.

The girls walked with haste through the streets, ignoring the puzzled glances of passers-by. Nancy stared solely at her feet, barely summoning the strength to move one in front of the other. She leant heavily against Bet’s shoulder, but the girl managed to hold her up well enough; she’d always been a strong one.

Eventually, Bet’s lodgings crept into view. She led Nancy into her room and lowered her onto the bed, before pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of her, taking her hands in hers.

‘How do you feel?’ she asked her.

‘Dizzy. Like my head’s full of bees.’

‘You need to eat something. I’ll get you something. You just sit down.’

Bet stood up from the chair and ransacked her bag. She couldn’t offer much except a bread bun and an apple, but it was better than nothing.

‘Here, eat. Then you can focus better.’

Nancy took the food and offered Bet a weak smile. She glanced down at the bread and apple in her hands and blinked a couple of times as her vision started to cloud. She felt icy cold and burning heat simultaneously. She lost the strength to sit up and slumped to one side, hearing the echo of Bet crying ‘Nancy!’ as she went.


	2. Chapter 2

The feeling of ice-cold water slapping her skin revived Nancy and she came to, spluttering. 

‘You fainted,’ Bet informed her, her voice low and uncertain.

Nancy nodded, rolled over and heaved herself into a sitting position, clutching her side. Before, all she could feel was the throbbing in her head: now that that had subsided a little, she became aware of pain in her side, in her arms, in her legs, in her neck. Her whole body hurt. She sniffed miserably.

‘You scared me, Nance,’ Bet continued, sitting down in her chair again and leaning forward with the bread roll and apple, ‘You need to eat.’

Nancy nodded again and took the bread. She was simultaneously hungry and completely lacking in appetite. She nibbled on one end of the bread roll, and felt her mouth ache with the anticipation of food. Then, she tore into it with an immediate voracity, finding herself ravenous.

‘That’s better,’ Bet said with pride. She offered her the apple and Nancy grabbed it, having devoured the bread roll in a matter of seconds. Without pause, she bit into it and took nearly half the apple in one bite.

‘Blimey. Anyone would think you’d never had a meal in your life.’

‘I’ve had a lot on my mind, Bet. Having much felt like eating.’

Bet nodded and watched with wide eyes as Nancy finished the apple and then twirled the core between her fingers, apparently contemplating whether she could eat that as well. She decided against it and tossed it lightly out of the window, before reaching up to her temple and touching it tentatively. It was still wet with blood.

‘We need to bandage that up, Nancy,’ Bet told her, standing up and setting about finding a suitable piece of material. She picked up a tattered old scarf from where it hung over her fireplace and folded it in half neatly.

‘I washed this just last night so it’ll be clean. It’ll have to do for now.’

‘But Bet, you love that scarf.’

‘You think I care more about an old scarf than I do you?’

Nancy shrugged and smiled at her. Bet marched over and began wrapping the scarf around the girl’s head, muttering profuse apologies as she did so; Nancy was wincing. She tied the ends together in a large knot then stood back to survey her work. 

‘How do I look?’ Nancy asked her, reclining on the bed and grinning.

‘Awful, Nance. I won’t lie,’ Bet answered with a chuckle.

The two girls then became serious. Nancy felt the scarf wrapped tightly around her head, focused her gaze on the floor, and sighed heavily. Bet hugged her elbows and looked at her, before finally building the confidence to ask:

‘What happened, Nance?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘But Nance –’

‘Just leave it, Bet.’

‘But he’s still out there –’

‘I just – don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. Not now.’

Bet looked at her for a few moments before finally nodding, though her mouth was still twisted in worry. She hated this. A small part of her had expected it, although her nervous warnings always fell on deaf ears. Nancy had always been a sort of guardian to her, taking care of her and making sure she was happy. Now, she was tiny and child-like in her red dress, twisting her hands in her lap. Bet edged over to sit down next to her and wrapped a tentative arm around her, wary of hurting her. Nancy flicked away a tear from her cheek and leant her head on Bet’s shoulder. She was trembling.


End file.
